


last chance to crash the car

by saysthemagpie



Category: BBC Radio 1 RPF, One Direction (Band)
Genre: Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, Marriage Proposal, no actual cars are crashed lol, zero angst whatsoever just gryles being sweet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-29
Updated: 2017-11-29
Packaged: 2019-02-08 10:50:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,296
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12862947
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/saysthemagpie/pseuds/saysthemagpie
Summary: harry pops the question.





	last chance to crash the car

**Author's Note:**

> cross-posted and edited from an earlier tumblr prompt, "things you said when we were driving." just feeling that end-of-year itch to get some stuff up on ao3!

“Harry,” Nick says, knuckles white on the steering wheel. “Christ, you can’t just say things like that while I’m driving.” 

“Well, I can’t say them at home, can I,” Harry says, settling back into his seat. “Last time I tried you panicked and put a whole wine glass down the garbage disposal. It took ages to get all the pieces out.”

“That was - I dropped it,” Nick says. “On accident.”

“Right,” Harry says, though he sounds fond rather than annoyed. “And the time before that you tripped over Pig, _on accident_ , and sprained your wrist and had to spend the whole evening in the A&E. And the time before that you pretended you had food poisoning and hid out in the toilet all night.” 

Nick ignores this. “I might’ve wrecked the car,” he says. “Just now I might’ve, with you saying things like that. We could’ve died.” 

Harry frowns. “You wouldn’t,” he says, though he doesn’t sound completely sure. 

“The shock,” Nick says, warming to his theme. “The shock of it all.”

“But it’s not a shock,” Harry says. “You know I’ve been planning it for ages now, and I’m not going to change my mind. And now that I’ve got you trapped on the motorway you’ve got to listen, unless you really are planning to wreck the car.” 

Nick does contemplate it for a moment, but has to give it up. It’d be hard to stage a believable but still minor accident when they’re just barely crawling along, stopped dead in traffic outside Birmingham. The safer course, really, would be to open the driver’s side door and flee across the West Midlands on foot. But then he’d have to call Anne and explain why he wasn’t coming for Christmas. He's not sure she’d accept _Your son won’t stop saying mad things about wanting to be with me forever_ as a legitimate excuse. 

Anyway, he likes Anne. He likes all of Harry’s family, and he loves spending Christmas with them, playing silly parlor games and drinking mulled wine and falling asleep in Harry’s childhood room, spooned up beneath layers and layers of old quilts. 

Best to change tacks, then.

“Harry,” he says. “You’re only twenty-three - ”

“Oh, come on, don’t tell me I’m not old enough,” Harry says. “It was okay when I was younger, I suppose, because I was younger, and maybe you weren’t sure if I meant it or if I’d change my mind or something. But I’m older now and I know what I want. And you know it too. It' silly, Nick, pretending like it’s just casual between us, when it’s never been like that. It’s always been different with you.”

It’s lucky the car’s barely moving, because Nick thinks he really might drive them into a ditch, and not even on purpose. He’ll never understand how Harry can just come out and say things like that, as if it’s perfectly normal and not at all terrifying to tell people what you're thinking. He’ll never understand, either, how Harry can look at him the way he’s looking at him right now, his expression open and earnest and genuine. It makes Nick dizzy and faintly nauseous with emotion, like he’s about to puke and faint at the same time. 

The worst part is that if he did, it probably wouldn’t deter Harry in the slightest. Harry's annoyingly sweet about things like that. He'd probably help Nick clean up the car, and then he'd cradle Nick's head in his lap by the side of the road till he felt better, and he'd wait at least twenty-four hours before he started ribbing Nick mercilessly about it. 

It’s all very confusing. Nick takes refuge in logistics, that old safe haven. 

“You’ve got your tours,” he says. “And I’ve got the show.”

“It doesn’t have to be now,” Harry says. “I’ve been trying to tell you that, except you keep panicking and smashing things and making yourself sick every time I try. I don’t mind if we wait, even if it’s ages. It won’t make the slightest difference to me. I love you, Nick. I want to spend the rest of my life with you.” 

“God,” Nick says, a bit helplessly. “I’m driving.”

“Shh,” Harry says, petting Nick’s thigh. “I’m sorry it’s not more romantic, except I thought you’d get suspicious if I started lighting candles in the car or putting rose petals all over the seats.”

“Might’ve done, yeah,” Nick says.

“My mum’s got champagne at the house, though,” Harry says. “And I’ve got - um, here.” 

He fumbles in the outer pocket of his bag for a moment before producing a small velvet box. Nick stares at it, then at Harry, then back at the road. His heart’s pounding in his ears.

“Oh my god,” he says. They've never gotten this far before. Usually by this point he’s managed to set the tablecloth on fire, or created some other small but dramatic catastrophe to derail the conversation. He doesn’t understand why he isn’t doing it now. “You can’t - oh my god, Harry. You can’t.” 

There’s a pause. Then Harry shifts next to him, his fingers closing round the box. 

“I don’t have to,” he says quietly. “Nick. If you really don’t want me to, then it’s fine, I won’t. I’ll just, um. I’ll text my mum, and we’ll - it’s fine. It doesn’t have to be weird.” 

“Oh my god,” Nick says, and yanks the steering wheel to the left, pulling the car off onto the shoulder.

“Nick,” Harry says. “What’re you - ”

“Look at me,” Nick says, putting the car in park and turning towards him, and Harry does, wide-eyed, bewilderment written all over his face. Nick takes a shaky breath. “I’m belted in, all right, I’m not going anywhere, and also I’m sort of madly in love with you, so you’d better take full advantage of the moment.” 

A grin breaks out across Harry’s face. 

“Really?” he says.

“Yes,” Nick says. “Yes, really. But I can release this seatbelt at any time, you know, so you’d better do it quick. No fancy speeches.” 

“Oh, just a little one,” Harry says. He’s beaming. “Can’t I do just a little one?”

“Fine, go on then,” Nick sighs, pretending to be put-upon. 

Harry clears his throat.

“Nicholas Grimshaw,” he says, and Nick's fingers tighten compulsively on his seatbelt buckle.

"Quickly," he says. 

"Hush," Harry says. "You're my best friend and my favorite human. You’re the first person I want to talk to when I wake up and the last one I want to talk to before I go to sleep. Which is dead inconvenient sometimes, with the time differences and all.”

“I still pick up,” Nick says. "I always pick up."

“I know,” Harry says. “I was going to say that, if you'd stop interrupting.” 

He opens his hand, revealing the box resting on his palm. They both look at it. 

“When I’m with you,” Harry says slowly. “Everything seems more real. And I’m not afraid of anything. When we're together I feel like I’m where I’m meant to be - like I'm _who_ I’m meant to be. You make me better, and you make me happy – god, Nick, you make me so happy, you have no idea.” 

“I’ve got some idea,” Nick says with some difficulty, because all of a sudden he’s a bit choked up.

“Don’t cry,” Harry says, his own eyes suspiciously wet. “Nick, I – I’m going to open this now.”

Nick swallows. “Okay.” 

“There’s a ring inside,” Harry says very gently, like Nick might be confused. “You know that, right?”

“Last chance to crash the car,” Nick jokes, but he doesn’t move. He just looks at Harry as steadily as he can, and Harry looks back at him, smiling.

“Nick,“ he says. “Will you marry me?”

**Author's Note:**

> come visit me on [dreamwidth](http://saysthemagpie.dreamwidth.org) (currently on [tumblr](http://saysthemagpie.tumblr.com) hiatus).


End file.
